


Those Eyes

by Cake_isnt_pie_sam



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Angst, Demon Dean, Demon Dean Winchester, Gen, angsty!sam
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-11
Updated: 2014-07-11
Packaged: 2018-02-08 09:46:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 272
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1936263
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cake_isnt_pie_sam/pseuds/Cake_isnt_pie_sam
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Sam finds out Dean's a demon, he just can't stop thinking about those haunting black eyes. He can't even drink the memory away, yet he'll still damned well try.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Those Eyes

**Author's Note:**

> (I don't own the boys, SPN, or the angst. Comments appreciated!)

Sam sat at the dark table, bottle of whiskey in hand like a true Winchester. His eyes burned—the tears pushed back at his eyelids, a constant struggle of trying to figure out what the hell to do now or whether he should just finish the damned bottle and maybe three more. He figured that maybe if he drank enough, it wouldn’t hurt so much—he wouldn’t remember—anything. He took another swig from the bottle, not even feeling the burn of it anymore.

"Damnit," he called out, grabbing the empty glass off of the table and chucking it against a wall, the glass shattering to the floor. It was loud against the quiet of the bunker. Sam might’ve flinched at the noise if he could even feel anything. He should have done something—anything.

A demon? He downed more of the bottle, slamming it back onto the table. The way Dean looked at him when Crowley came to show off his new “pet.” Every damned time Sam closed his eyes, all he could see was those black eyes, two dark voids where there used to be green. He body shook with a nerve-wracking shiver as he shut his eyes.

He used to be able to remember every shade of green in those eyes. But now, all he could remember is the black on Dean’s face—scars of a battle he fought…and lost. He felt like those eyes were always watching him—from just the edge of his peripherals.

Sam closed his eyes and pressed his thumb into the scar on his hand, trying to block the image from his head.


End file.
